Cocky Bastard
Page 39“Yes. I’m asking you to take a chance. Go out with me.”
Take a chance. I hadn’t used Chance’s name when telling the story. So, I found Jeremy’s choice of words ironic.
“Take a chance, huh?”
“Yes.”
“Okay, Jeremy. I will.”
Part II
Two Years Later
Chance
Chapter Thirteen
CHANCE
My hands were balled into fists as I sat on my bed, bopping my legs up and down. I’d dreaded this day every bit as much as I’d longed for it. The closer it got, the more my apprehension about leaving this place grew. Looking around at the Spartan gray walls, I could hardly believe that this was really it. Today was the day.
“What the hell is wrong with you, man?” my cellmate Eddie said. “This is what you’ve been waiting for.”
“You’ll see how it feels when your day comes.”
“Yeah. Fucking ecstatic is how I’ll feel. You want to trade places? I’d give my right nut to be in your shoes right now.”
“I know you would. It’s not that I’m ungrateful to be done. It’s just that nothing is the same as when I came in here. This place…it’s become my normal. Walking out of here is gonna be like walking into a big black hole. At least here I know what to expect.”
“It’s been two years, not forty.”
“A lot can happen in two years, mate. I’ve learned that all too well.” When the words came out of my mouth, my heart immediately felt heavier. Two years ago, I had a mother. Now, I didn’t. My mother was dead. God, it was so painful to think about her not being around anymore. That was reason enough to want to stay in here and hide from reality.
Mum had suffered an aneurysm while driving about a year ago. The fact that I was locked up and couldn’t say goodbye to her when she was clinging to life at the hospital was something that I would never forgive myself for.
There were a lot of things I couldn’t forgive myself for.
Eddie’s next question threw me for a loop. “Are you gonna try to find her?”
“Who?”
“You know who.”
I ran my hands through my hair in frustration. Why did he have to bring her up? “No,” I said adamantly.
“No?”
My tone was more insistent. “No.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s been two fucking years. She’s probably married by now, maybe with a baby even. Oh, and there’s that minor detail of her hating my guts and wishing I were dead because I broke her fucking heart.”
I never intended to tell Eddie about Aubrey. I never intended to tell anyone about her, especially the details of how I left her.
One night, I had apparently been talking in my sleep in the middle of a dream, saying things like, “Aubrey, I’m sorry. So fucking sorry.” I’d woken Eddie up, and he dragged it out of me. The dreams were recurring and continued to happen on and off, to the point where Eddie had dubbed them “Aubreys.” “You had an Aubrey again last night,” he’d say.
“You don’t know for a fact that she wishes you ill will.”
“What does it matter, Eddie? Even if she’s not married, the whole point of sneaking out that morning was to make her hate me so that she’d move on with her life and not wait two whole years for me while I was stuck in this hell. Why the fuck would I have broken her heart intentionally only to go back and try to be with her again?”
Fuck.
Of course I was.
Shrugging my shoulders, I let out a deep breath and sat back down on the bed, staring at the wall. “I hope she’s happy and that she’s moved on. I really do. But I sure as hell don’t want to put myself through witnessing that firsthand.”
“Well, it’s your decision. I just don’t want you to regret it later. From what I can see, that shit traumatized you.”
“Oh, you’re a shrink now, eh, Ed?”
“I don’t have to be a professional to see it. Look, you’re a good guy. She’d be proud of you if she saw it the way I do. You’ve made the best of your time here more than anyone I’ve seen come and go before.”
I’d damn well tried. I’d taken some classes toward finishing my degree and even organized a soccer program for the inmates in the adjoining juvenile hall. I was determined not to let these years be a total waste, to make something good out of them. If being here meant giving up everything, it was damn well not going to be for nothing. There was no doubt I’d be leaving prison a different person—not a happier one—but a stronger one.